It’s Sunday, December 8, and there’s rain in the forecast. Very little snow and no cold makes it difficult to believe it’s December in North Dakota. Cold is relative, of course. When we say it’s not freezing in North Dakota in December, we mean it’s not below zero with no wind chill.
Preparations are underway for Christmas Day, even if you can hang your sheets on the laundry line on December 7 in North Dakota. It was also Pearl Harbor Day and my maternal grandparents’ wedding anniversary.
The last of my mail-order Christmas packages arrived Saturday except the one I bought myself. That’s coming later. I am almost done wrapping all those gifts, my tree is up, but my baking has been on hold. I am fighting off a cold.
‘Tis the season. It’s the time between soft winter and hard winter that everyone seems to be passing along germs. My immune system has been weakened with the cancer treatments so I decided I should be more careful about exposure to new pods of people.
My head was so stuffed the past week that I thought my cheekbones would shatter. Since then the congestion has moved to my chest. That’s a bit more scary.
Since my diagnosis, I’ve been painfully aware of my lungs, a body part that never really crossed my mind in the past. I didn’t know where my lungs were until the biopsy in early 2023
These days I equate every breath I take as a gift. Quite frequently, the lyrics from Amy Grant’s song, “Breath of Heaven,” pops into my mind.
Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me Your Holiness
For you are Holy
Breath of Heaven
It is a song of the Christmas season from Mary’s perspective. A beautiful song.
Whether you believe this or not Genesis 2:7 reads, “Then the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man’s nostrils, and the man became a living person.”
Every breath we take means life. Since my good news from our Mayo visit over Thanksgiving, we have had our share of sad news. I lost a friend and peer, my son’s friend lost a child, my husband lost a nephew, and the world’s share of tragic news is overwhelming.
Yet. I feel life in every molecule of my being. There’s something magnificent about every single minute of every single hour of every single day. I can’t help it. I regret that it took me until now to realize that…
Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe
And to love you
All I need is the air that I breathe
Yes, to love you
All I need is the air that I breathe
Okay, if you know me well, you know that my life is a cabaret, my friends. I’ve been singing my way through it forever. Just ask my children. They still reprimand me for singing in public. Everything reminds me of a song. My husband hates that I make up the words to fit my situation. But it’s my production.
Think about it. What is life? Ultimately, it is the air that we breathe, the breath of heaven that gives us one more day to love. And, it’s all about love. Love our neighbors, love ourselves, love our families, love our lives.
Christmas is the season of love and I love all of you. You have made me smile and cry and smile and cry this year with the outpouring of love for me and my family in 2024.
PS: I didn’t realize that “All The Air That I Breathe” is a song by the Hollies released in 1974. I must be really old.
INDYchildrendotme 
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